Punching Through Life
by Aku No Kokoro
Summary: Vi's thoughts at several instances in her life after joining the police force. All regarding a certain sheriff. One-sided Vi/Caitlyn
1. All Work and No Lay

The office was stuffy as hell. It consisted of a lone desk, stuffed with paper work, and a large purple top hat. On the left of the entrance door was another desk, less grand, and much less neat, with a simple chair in front of it. There was a bookcase off to the right of it, and a lone window letting in the occasional ray of sunlight, and leading out to a spectacular view of The City of Progress. But this didn't change the fact that the room was indeed stuffy, and boring, and that Vi wished she could be anywhere else right now. Namely out on patrol, but that's the reason she was here in the first place. Patrols meant trouble, especially when Vi was involved, because she zealously caught and apprehended dozens of crooks on each on. Trouble and crooks captured meant tons of paper work about every little detail on what happened. And that meant being stuck inside to file papers inside Caitlyn's office, while said sheriff kept a watchful eye to make sure her deputy didn't slack off. That, and since Vi required some form of assistance or another on documents, so she may as well be close by.

However, that also meant that Vi would constantly be distracted by the presence of her superior in the same room as her, and the fact that the woman in question would have her eye on Vi. Watching Vi. It made the deputy nervous for several reasons, too many to allow any actual progress on her documents. This usually lead to Caitlyn, with strict posture and a sharp tone to 'gently' remind Vi get back to filing, which she always took as beratement. That by slacking off she had made herself look like less in the sheriff's eyes. It wasn't nearly that dramatic, though. However, she still couldn't help herself for letting her mind wander the way it did, so this happened often. It was too damn hard to focus, though, when she could just tilt her head to the right and see Sheriff Caitlyn in all her glory.

It would be too damn hard to focus, when without looking, Vi already knew the sight that awaited her if she did look. It would be the sheriff, sitting down, head pointed toward her desk filling out her own share of paper work, and once in a while, she would glance up to make sure Vi wasn't lost in thought again (If only the sheriff knew what her deputy was thinking about). She would be in that purple dress that started too damn low, and ended too damn high. Who the hell would make such a thing anyway? And would the sheriff, with that much class, wear it? It's purpose was obvious, to show off those lovely breasts, and her long smooth legs, and every single fricken curve in her body. And it did it's job _very_ well. Vi found herself biting the inside of her cheek once again in an effort to control herself. To remind herself that she should be doing paper work right now, and that she shouldn't even be thinking Caitlyn right now. Or at all. Ever, because classy ladies like that don't go fo-

"Eyes at your desk, not at the cieling, Vi."

Fuck. Caught once again. It was always so humilating when this kind of thing happened. Caitlyn had a habit of making the the bruiser seem like a child, and yet, Vi could've sworn she was older. Still, she resigned herself to stare down at the documents, intent on _staying_ focused this time, but that was a lost cause. Not when you-know-who was a few steps away. The words mixed and jumbled together, and some of them she needed a dictionary for. To the best of her ability, she managed to sign each one correctly (In her best attempt at cursive) until she turned the next page. A huge blob of ink assaulted her then and there with confusing directions and complex words. Something about the protocal, it made no sense, at least to her. She would need help on this one, and yet refused to ask. Vi has always been too proud of a lass, but there was also the question of whose assistance. It was stupid, but she wanted to prove the sheriff that she could do it on her own, that she was a big girl now. She wanted to _impress_ her.

This was to no avail however because 12 minutes passed and Vi was still on the same page. She was content with simply staring at it, rather than admit she couldn't do it, when the sheriff had somehow materialized behind her. Vi hadn't even noticed until Caitlyn bent down low to inspect the document closely. The shock hushed Vi into silence, while Caitlyn didn't seem to notice her awkwardness. Instead, the sheriff simply ran her eyes along the words. Finally, the silence broke when Caitlyn spoke

"It's simply asking you about their descriptions."

"Hm." Responded Vi still too startled to say anything coherent, but still able to play off aloofness. Satisfied, the sheriff promply walked back to her desk.

But the strawberry scent of Caitlyn's shampoo still lingered. And the spot on her back where Caitlyn's breasts rested was still warm.

Well shit.


	2. Swinging Back and Forth

Vi entered and shut the door behind her. She then leaned her back on it and slid down. Her muscles ached, and as overzealous as she was, even she needed to rest and relax a long day of work. She loved the job, of course she did. She could sock a convict in the face and face little repurcussion because she was doing it for the good of Piltover and all that jazz, but she needed time to herself. Especially to deal with the frustrations of the last few hours.

It was a rarity that Sheriff Caitlyn would actually find time to go out and her own patrolling. Usually she was signing her perfect signature over and over on ink clustered paper, or personally training the new recruits, or keeping her gear in tip top condition, preventing her prized sniper from rusting due to its time out of use. But for once it happened, and hell, she even did her patrol with Vi. Given all she did, the sheriff could definitely use a break, but she insisted on this sort of thing. It was her way to show she wasn't just a boss, that she would do the grunt work too. The thing was, though, that she had nothing to prove, and everyone in the area worried it would stress her out. She seemed to show no sign of cracking yet though, and no one would dare tell her otherwise.

So the two of them set off into the night, first by car, riding out into the outskirts of the city, and their protective establishment, and into the slums. Then they roamed on foot, on a predetermined route. It was an efficient set up, thought of by the head behind the Piltover Police Force herself. On the patrol, Caitlyn took the lead, rifle in tow, and ready. Vi followed, a little behind, a little to the left, and with her hexteched hands behind her head. For the most part, there was little commotion. Plenty of scummy looking bastards, but nothing _visibly_ illegal. You couldn't just nail a guy for looking scummy. Well you _could_ but Vi couldn't anymore, especially not in this company.

During this time though, Vi had plenty of time to admire. Plenty of time to notice how the city lights made the sheriff's skin glow, and how it was a nice image. Or how she gazed at everything, never missing a detail, and compiled it, keeping it in the big picture. How the sheriff could just keep going forward, never once faltering or stumbling. Vi also made note of the hungry gazes from the horndogs as they walked pass. She could see them salivating, and her hands dropped to her side and clenched. On instinct, she sent them angry, overprotective glares.

"Calm yourself, I know you're itching for a fight, but control yourself."  
And once again Caitlyn did that thing again. The eyes on the back of her head thing. But (luckily) she had the reasoning wrong.

"Control yourself."

Now that brought back a familiar memory. One where she had once again thrashed a group of crooks, and somehow or another, through a sleazy lawsuit, the Force ended up paying for the hospital builds. Vi remembered a frustrated Caitlyn pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut in agitation. Then, the sheriff spoke in a calm voice, 

"Do control yourself in the future." And left it that, though the tone was absent, the shame was unmistakably there.

"Alright." The Deputy thought to herself. "Just this once I'll hold back."  
And in the very corner of her mind, in a part she didn't even know existed, a little voice added "For you."

Long story short, the ran into a group of muggers that night, and Vi roughed them up much less than usual. As Caitlyn finished handcuffing them, Vi glanced over, hoping for some sort of approval. Some sign that not being Vi was worth it. She only recieved a small obligatory nod, and like that, she knew her efforts were neither appreciated, or noticed. The rest of the night was eventless, but for once, her gauntlets heavily dragged down her shoulders.

So here she was, sitting on the floor, back against her door. She groaned and finally got up, walking over to a simple couch in front of an oddly lavish desk. She dropped her backpack on it, and dropped herself on the couch. Vi stayed there, simply opting to close her eyes and stare at the blackness of her lids for a few minutes. Eventually, she pulled herself upright and gingerly removed each gauntlet. Unlike the bag, she placed them delicately on the table, palm-side up, and in a way so that they looked perfectly similar. A ritual, to her longest and bestest friends. After that, she rubbed the sore spots on her arms and legs.

Finally she pulled her uniform shirt off, which clung to her by the sweat of the night. Then she peeled off her work pants, and threw both to one side of the couch. Getting up and stretching, she went to open a window. The cold air flooded in, and she breathed it, before getting bored of just standing there. The chill conducted itself on the sweat on her body, and she found herself cold now too. Great.

With a huff of sigh, she dragged her feet over to a faded red punching bag. A few dents decorated the sides, never really inflating itself from her blows. She lazily took up a boxer stance, and swung. The sack flew away and came back, so she knocked it away again. As time went on, her punches became faster, harder, and the bag flew farther and farther. She was starting to warm now, adrenaline kicking in, blood starting to, and she remembered how her day went.

She remembered her effort. Punch. And how it wasn't noticed. Punch. How she had tried. Punch. So damn hard to go against herself. What made her _Vi_. Punch. And it wasn't even appreciated. So why. Hook. Did. Hook. She. Jab. Even bother? She remembered not having such a stupid feeling. Smash. When the **hell** did she try to please someone anyway? Smash. And the worst part was, the one time she does, it didn't even matter. The jabs were becoming animalistic. No, maybe the worse part was that she didn't want to impress someone else before. Headbutt. That she used to live for just herself. Smash. That she didn't always feel so disugstingly _weak_.

This continued, each hit sending the bag farther and farther away, to have it swing back faster, and sent back harder. Then Vi got to picturing the sheriff's goddamn face on the bag, and she goes for the hit that liberates her once and for all-  
But it never lands. The hand that was going to land the blow uncurls, and she rubs the back of her calloused knuckles gently on the bag in a tender caress. She remembers how soft the skin on Cait's face looked, and can't bring herself to do it. Her throat hitches, and stomach tightens, and she's still trapped.

Slowly but surely, she unbends her knees, standing tall once again. The cold is creeping up again, and she easily recalls a time when another person didn't have this much impact on her. When she was free to do what she wanted for herself. She misses those days  
And then she remembers the sheriff, and she doesn't miss them so much anymore. And that's confusing as hell. So she grits her teeth, because so many things are clashing together, conflicting things, and it doesn't make sense, so everything is just a huge clusterfuck. And she throws herself in bed, and just hopes that tomorrow goes better. That she _means _something to a certain someone tomorrow. 


	3. Frustrations and Temptations

Hell has broken loose on Valoran, or if not now, it will soon. The reason for this being that Sheriff Caitlyn was drunk. And to repeat, Sheriff. Caitlyn. Was drunk.

Vi could hardly believe it. How the hell did this happen? Well there was that party, the one the city held for the Force for another year of protecting the citizens of Piltover. Fine work, well done, and all that. And maybe for once, the sheriff really did decide to take it easy. "Just one or two drinks." she said, but as the night went on, and the conversations went on longer and longer, and became more numerous (Everyone wanted a piece of the sheriff, Vi would know) Caitlyn needed to wet her whistle. So it seems that one thing lead to another, and now Vi was left at a dinner table with a drunk superior wearing a flushed face, and nearly bursting out of her dress, along with a few guests. Probably from high standings.

The more older, modest men averted their eyes, and continued to discuss taxes, work, business stuff. The younger men (and woman) shamelessly let their eyes wander at her ample bust, which was more than ready to jump out for freedom and fresh air. And then, fearing they would be caught, would jump up to look at her face, before shamelessly letting their gaze drop again.

Caitlyn was a damn bombshell. And she knew it, knew how to use it and everything. This fact tempted the crap out of Vi immensely, and because it tempted her, it pissed her off. In short, she was still trapped. The sheriff in question wore a simple black dress and matching heels. Thats it. Nothing special. Except for the fact that the dress clung to _everything_ and stopped at all the right/wrong places. It made her want to punch all the leerers in the room, and herself for the same reason.

Vi herself dressed in something much more modest. A simple tux, tailored to her measurements, and a simple red bow tie, just to make it a little more unique. After all, there was no way she was going to wear a dress. Ever. At any rate, the hours passed by, and all the other guests started to dwindle out one by one. Which left Vi, Caitlyn, and a few spectators and staff, who were all making their way out. Caitlyn stood up shakily, wobbling in her heels, face flushed, and covered in sweat from the heat of the booze.

"Hey, you okay there, Boss?" Vi called out. She never did call her by her name. That implied a type of close friendship. A closeness that wasn't there.  
"Yes, yes. I'm fine, I just need to- oh!" The vocal flow of her richly cultured voice was broken by her stumble.

"Okay, maybe I'm not so alright after all." She added on, as she takes another tentative test step forward. "Ah!" She starts to tumble again.

"I've got you." Vi says as she catches her. "Thank you." Caitlyn responds, but all of a sudden, her eyes get this sort of glazed look to them. Then her lids start to droop lower and lower, and when they closed completely, the sheriff's body went limp in the enforcer's arms. It took Vi a few moments to register what had happened, but when she did

"Well shit." She muttered out. And then "Hey, hey! Wake up!" She shouted, all the while shaking the the sleeping person in her arms. In response, said body yawned, and then went limp again. Well that worked. Vi was not in a good mood though. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. There was just so much skin to touch, and when she tried to avoid it, she found she couldn't, less she would drop the good sheriff on the cold floor, and it was doubtful she would be happy about that.

"So now what?" Vi muttered to the empty air that could not hear her. "I guess I'll just take you home." And set on that, Vi carried the woman out the door before realizing

"Hold on, where do you live again?" And back to the futile shaking. "C'mon!" She whined, before giving up. She then realized that the only other option would to take the passed out sheriff back to her house. Vi's house.

"Well shit." She muttered again.

When they finally arrived, Vi fuddled with carrying the drunk sheriff, and closing/locking her car door. She had the same difficulties with getting into her apartment. Once she made it inside, her first instinct was to put the sheriff in bed. But looking at it, the thing was a mess. So first she placed her down on a chair, and made it as best as she could. As nice and comfy as possible (Another effort that probably won't be appreciated.) Once satisfied, she layed Caitlyn down, and since it was hot and sweating, didn't bother to throw a cover over her.

Vi pulled the chair beside the bed, and sat on it, exhausted. Parties sucked. Especially those high class ones. For a moment, she pondered getting up and sprucing up the place, because she didn't want her superior to wake up to a pig sty. Yep that's what she would do.

And yet she just remained rooted to that chair, staring at this form before her. The rise and fall of her chest, how her lips looked so plump, so warm, so inviting...  
One little kiss couldn't hurt could it?

Yes it could. It definitely could. And what the hell was she thinking anyway? Taking advantage of the situation. Sure she may have been a crook, but even she wouldn't have gone this low, could she? She might've, it's hard to remember. But she wasn't really going to do it now, was she? This is Caitlyn. Sheriff strict-as-iron Caitlyn. If she were to find out, it would be bad. This was illegal and wrong on so many levels. And besides, how could she even think of doing that to freaking Caitlyn? But then again, who wouldn't?

And Vi sat right there, debating with herself, over and over, drowsiness overtook her. She woke up the next morning to stare at an (actually neat for once but) empty, made bed. The house was desolate, and once again, it was only Vi. Alone.

The sheriff didn't leave a note or anything. She didn't even say good bye.


	4. Green Eyed Vi

Vi shoved another branch out of her face as she continued to stalk through Summoner's Rift. She walked with purpose, through thick thickets of greenery on pursuit of another enemy to drive into the ground. She stalked until a shrill mechanic scream echoed into her mind; her Summoner commanding her head to mid lane, it seemed a team fight was breaking out, but they needed a strong initiate. Vi usually didn't like being told what to do (Even when it was a certain Sheriff. If anything, she might've hated that more.), but she could play nice if it meant winning/and or smashing faces.

She arrived through the river bush and watched the two teams before her, trading projectiles back and forth, but in the chaos it was only hit and miss. They locked each other in stalemate, a fool hardy charge could either spell victory or defeat, but probably the latter. They needed something tactical, something strategic to pull through. Vi was neither of those. So she revved up her gloves and charged head first into the enemy team, one arm behind her to accelerate,the other in front of her to grab the first thing that brushed her fingers. The enemy team had either hauled ass out of the way or were knocked aside by a rocketing pinkette, when at last, she managed to grab onto something solid.

Excited, and not hesitatiing for a second, she shot herself into the air, glancing up to see her prize, her prey, it's shocked expression before she slammed them into the dirt. Instead, she was the shocked one, as in her clutches was the smooth leg of Sheriff Caitlyn. For a second, she stopped cold in mid air. Was Vi really going to slam her into the ground? Her? Really? Could she?

Hell yes she would. Of course she would. She was _Vi_ and no stupid _feeling_ would make her not destroy something. Would make her not be _her_ (Not anymore). A certain conviction filled her, one that had been absent for far too long. She missed it. With that she powered her free hand skyward, and sent both her and the good sheriff plummeting back to Earth. But before they made contact, Caitlyn had wiggled her way free.

That moment of hesitation in Vi was enough for Caitlyn to regain her senses and kick herself loose. Whilst the two were still several feet in the air, Caitlyn fired a two-ton net, snaring the enforcer and sending her on a return trip. By herself. The net also sent Caitlyn upwards, slowing her descent, and allowing her to migitate the fall. Whilst airborne, she had the opportunity to take a potshot. The bullet spiraled out of a sniper's barrel, was pulled straight down by gravity, and then it hit. Hard. Hard enough to make Vi cough up blood, and try to gasp it back when she was done. The enforcer's vision was going black, she belt her body fading, and then she felt herself slowly being brought back to life on the fountain of purple base. The explosion of the Nexus almost charred her face off by the time she got back.

She learned the details after the game. Apparently her charging in like a wild bull wasn't the problem. That was too be expected in Vi. The problem was that she did it wrong, let the carry get away, got herself killed, lured her own team to go rushing in with a false sense of security only to be annihilated, and in a nutshell, losing them the whole game. Everyone on her team wouldn't stop glaring at her afterwards, and it was to be assumed that her summoner was getting a lot of shit too. Still, Caitlyn walked over, prized rifle hanging by a strap on her shoulder, and offered a handshake (How professional) and a "Good Game, Vi.", along with a slight smile (That probably held no hidden yearning what so ever).

Vi shook it, taking what she could get. It really didn't matter which team won, since each had a representative of Piltover on their side, so no matter what, the city gained reputation. The two started to walk back towards the transport station to take them home, when a masculine voice called after him. Turning around, Vi saw that it was the jackass face of Jayce, Hero of Tomorrow, wielding a large hammer, and an ego just as big. Or perhaps this could have just come from Vi's general dislike of the guy.

"That was a great game, ladies." He said, with a sly grin on his face, leaning on his hammer a bit. "Say let's walk back together."

He had a stupid face. Immediately the sleazy bastard tried to strike up a conversation with a certain Sheriff.

The two were on the same side, so Vi's hostility towards the guy didn't make much sense. In fact, they might made good friends. They liked their muscles, their pride, their machinery, and the two could be loud as hell. They'd probably have loads of fun at a bar together.

But Jayce had a significant difference. While Vi was on the force, you could hardly look at her and not think anything but "Punk". Now when you looked at Jayce, who was fighting for the very same thing as Vi, everyone thought he was a hero. It was the way he walked, the way he hammed things up when he talked, the cheesey one liners. It was the fact that he donated large sums of money to Piltover's research, or that he single-handedly went and handed it to that pasty guy from Zaun. The loser saved kittens from trees, and he seemed to make it his personal duty to have his face on every newspaper article.

He was a frigging White Knight. And as much as this pissed the hell out of Vi, it gave him a certain compatibility with Caitlyn. Righteous, no nonsense, good as grail, Caitlyn. A certain compatibility that also, for obvious reasons, pissed hell out of Vi.

This could be shown in the way the two heroes chatted among themselves, seeming to forget the "Delinquent" in the group, and third wheel. So she walked ahead of them, arms behind her head just to show how much she didn't give a shit about either the pompous hero, or the sheriff who sometimes made her trip on her own words. She was doing a good job of pretending to be laid back and blocking out every word when a single sound broke through her mental defenses. A laugh. A pretty delicate laugh that reminded one of tea cups.

That.

That.

That _asshole_ had made her laugh, something Vi could never have done in the whole time she'd been on the force. And it'd seemed he'd done it so easily. But Cait was a professional, she didn't do relationships. They were just a distraction, an interruption. Vi had nothing to worry about. And yet logical argument didn't stop her from picking up her pace, speed walking away from them, perking her ears up a bit in case one of them had chased after her, to ask her why she was running off so fast. She reached the teleportation device and no such thing happened. She glanced back and saw the two still chatting, still happy, not even noticing she was gone.

Rudely, Vi spat to the side of the device, mucking up the clean floors. She stepped through on her own. Once she had crossed over and was sure she was alone, the enforcer let out a sigh. The exhale sounded disappointed. Too disappointed. Vi didn't like that.

A/N: Sorry I took so long, but I swear I didn't forget. On another note, I actually have an ending planned now. Not a great ending, but an ending nonetheless, and it'll be pretty open ended. Before that though, I'll try to squeeze in as many life moments as I can. I also fear I'm losing my touch. Hopefully just a rough patch. Until the next time.


End file.
